Losing Lassie
by Miss Basset
Summary: Carlton Lassiter goes on a bust alone without calling backup and ends up getting hit on the head. He wakes up in a strange town, surrounded by even stranger people.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Losing Lassie

**Author**: Basset

**Summary**: Carlton Lassiter goes on a bust alone without calling backup and ends up getting hit in the head. He wakes up in a strange town, surrounded by even stranger people.

**Genre**: General/Romance

**Paring(s)**: Shassie

**Author's Note:** I've seen a few stories where Shawn looses his memory, but none about Lassie. So I thought it was about time Lassiter got some amnesia.  
And aren't plot bunnies evil? I've been trying to finish 'Stealing Pineapples', but I keep making new stories. So far I have this one, a series of oneshots, and one where 16 year old Shawn is tricked into going to cop camp and meets a certain rookie cop who likes fake mustaches.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Psych or any of its characters.

* * *

This was supposed to have been a simple bust. Go in there with his gun, arrest the criminals, and be back to the station before anyone missed him.

To bad life never was that simple for Carlton Lassiter.

Take right now for example. At the moment the head Detective for the Santa Barbra Police Department was in a warehouse surrounded by the same criminals he had been intending on putting in handcuffs in less than 5 minutes. Turned out they had been expecting him. And they were armed.

For once in his life, Lassiter wished he had listened to Spencer. Sure, the man was a pain in the neck, but it probably would have been a good idea to call backup.

**_-Earlier that Day-_**

"What the hell Spencer?" Lassiter yelled as the 'psychic' jumped onto his desk, scattering his papers every-which-way. He really didn't need the younger man anywhere near him, for more than the usual reasons. Currently Lassiter had about 5 unsolved murder cases he had to work on, a robbery of a huge bank, and to top it all off, O'Hara was sick.

"Hello Lassie! I thought you might need a little psychic help, since Jules is sick and all. So I guess I'm going to be your partner today!" Spencer said, grinning and pushing a pile of papers off the detective's desk.

Growling under his breath Lassiter reached down to pick up the fallen papers. "Go hang out with Guster, I don't need your tomfoolery around today. I have enough on my plate already."

Chuckling Spencer stood up, knocking over yet another pile. "Lassie-face, did you seriously just say tomfoolery? You know I'm never going to let that down. And by saying you have a lot on your plate don't you mean you have 5 murder cases, three of which I have already solved, and a big robbery?" he asked, sitting down in the very comfortable chair that belonged to his favorite head detective. "Oh, and Gus has to work today. He totally ditched me, can you believe it?"

Rolling his eyes, Lassiter grabbed Spencer's arm and dragged him out of his chair. "Actually Spencer, as crazy as it seems, I can believe that someone would go to work to get away from you." he said, sitting down in his chair before the fake psychic could.

"Well, even if your going to be Mr. Grumpy Lassie-Pants today, the Chief said I'm your partner today. She said something about not trusting you to go out on a bust alone. So I guess your stuck with me." the younger of the two stated, turning around and dramatically falling onto Lassiter's lap. "Isn't this fun? We have the whole day to hang out!"

Lassiter couldn't believe it. Not only did he have a lot of work to do, now he had to deal with an annoying fake psychic who was sitting on his lap? "Get the hell off of me Spencer. And if we have to work together, sit over at O'Hara's desk." he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"No can do Lassie, I'm going to need the spirits on this case, and they insist that I sit on your lap. I personally think they are very taken with you. But who wouldn't? I mean, your tall, have dark hair, and your handsome. I think you fit the description of a man every woman dreams of. Way better than Edward Cullen in my opinion. Can you believe how-"

"SHUT UP!" Lassiter roared, pushing Spencer off of his lap with as much force as he could muster. He must have pushed Spencer harder than he'd thought, because the young man fell down with a loud thud. Hearing the loud noise people looked over, but quickly went back to their work after a glare from Lassiter. How was he going to survive? It was hard enough having to consult with Spencer, but having him be his partner for a day? That was pure torture. "I don't give a damn whether the spirits find me attractive or not, or your opinions on Twilight. All I care about is you going over to that desk and filling out some paperwork."

For the first time ever, or so it seemed to Lassiter, Spencer glared at him. Actually glared at him. Slowly standing up the man brushed himself, not hiding the fact he was in a whole lot of pain. "Lassiter, why whenever I try to help you or do something nice do you always end up hurting me?" he asked before stalking off, wincing after every step.

The only thing Lassiter could do was watch the psychic walk off. He'd never felt like a bigger jerk before. But then again it was Spencer's fault for sitting on his lap. If the younger man hadn't decided to annoy the head detective he wouldn't have a bruised bottom.

**_(-About an Hour Later-)_**

After Spencer had left, Lassiter had finally gotten some work done. He'd been able to find out where the robbers he had been tracking were located. The information had actually come in from an anonymous source, but it had been proven true.

Grabbing his jacket Lassiter started out of the station. He didn't need anyone's help with this arrest, only two people were in involved, and the head detective could take care of that. Just as he had neared the doors Spencer stepped through them. The fake psychic seemed to have gotten over his attitude and was grinning the stupid grin that made Lassiter's heart flutter every time he saw it. Of course the detective passed it off as annoyance or heartburn, it didn't mean anything.

"Lassie-face! Where are you going?" Spencer asked, changing directions to follow the older man.

"I'm going to arrest two robbers." Lassiter replied, checking to make sure his gun was in its proper place before quickly walking down the steps of the police station.

Spencer continued to smile and follow Lassiter, always keeping one step behind the Irish cop. "Ooh, a bust. Can I come?"

Turning around Lassiter pinned Spencer up against the nearest wall. "No Spencer, you can't come. You're not a cop, this is not safe for you. So stay here." he muttered before turning back and walking over to his car.

"Lassie, you actually sound worried about me. That's kinda sweet. But if I can't come, just call backup. I don't want my favorite smoking hot detective to get hurt, kay?" Spencer asked, concern actually evident in his voice.

Rolling his eyes Lassiter opened his car door. "Ya, sure whatever Spencer. I think I can handle two unarmed robbers by myself." he muttered in a very annoyed tone. "Don't tell me how to do my job." he added harshly.

Again Spencer seemed incredibly hurt by the comment. The psychic waited until he couldn't see the black car anymore before whispering something darkly that sounded oddly like 'But Lassie-kinz, there are way more than 2 men in that warehouse. And they are most defiantly armed' under his breath.

**_-Present-_**

The group of men, about 7, were slowly closing in on Lassiter. The detective knew he was outnumbered and there was no way he could possibly get out alive, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to put up a good fight.

His gun was aimed, ready to fire, but it he never had the chance to fire any bullets. One of the men had crept up behind the detective and hit him over the head.

Carlton Lassiter, Santa Barbra's finest police detective, fell down into a crumpled heap on the cold warehouse floor.

One of the larger men walked over to Lassiter and searched through all of his pockets, trying to find any kind of identification. Looking up at the one who seemed to be in charge of the group, the man said in a deep voice, "He's clean Max, no identification at all. What should we do with him?"

After a few minutes of thinking Max sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Well, we don't want the police getting into this, so we can't kill him. I say we drop him off somewhere in another state in the middle of nowhere. Felix, I'm putting you in charge of that, don't mess up."

The smallest of the bunch nodded and proceeded to drag the limp Lassiter out the door and into one of the many trucks the group owned. A few minutes later an engine started

Max turned to the rest of the group and smiled. "Now, let's get back to business. How are we going to transport 15 million dollars anywhere without anyone getting suspicious?"

* * *

I'm sorry that Lassie actually did go down without a fight. I just didn't know what to write there.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**: I just want to thank everyone for reviews and alerts. I only read one review (that made my day), but I'm so glad that about 4 people have alerted this story. It just makes me feel so good, thank you so much. *hands out chocolate covered pineapple christmas cookies*  
Oh, and I'm going to be gone from the December 21st to about January 4th or 5th, so Loosing Lassie will be on hold until them.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the Psych characters or the TV show Psych in general.

* * *

Shawn had never been more angry or upset in his life. Well, there had been that time back when he and Gus were Juniors that involved the squashed pineapple, but he'd finally gotten over that.

He just didn't get it, how could Lassie hate him so much? Shawn had been nice (well, pushing papers off his desk and sitting in the detective's lap wasn't exactly nice, but it wasn't really that bad), so why was the head detective so mean?

The fake psychic rarely held grudges or kept vital information from people, but that last comment from Lassie had been to much. So because of that, Shawn had decided to keep the fact that there were 7 armed dangerous men at the warehouse. But Lassie could take care of himself, he'd taken on 10 men before. But then again the men had only been armed with sticks.

After arriving home, Shawn had found a note from Gus taped to his fridge, along with a week's supply of pineapple and pineapple flavored food. Turned out that Gus had been called off to some conference and hadn't had time to inform anyone. So with both Gus and Jules gone, Shawn really had no choice but to hang out with his favorite head detective, even if he was angry at him.

Shrugging Shawn entered the police department. It had been 24 hours since he had last spoken with the detective, and he was anxious to find out how Lassiter had reacted when he saw the armed men.

Smiling to himself the young man walked over to Lassiter's desk, not noticing just how busy the stations was. It didn't register in his mind that something was wrong until he noticed the detective's desk looked exactly the same as the night before. Lassie had not returned since he had went to arrest the robbers.

It was as if his stomach fell out. What if he had been the cause of Lassie-face getting hurt? Sure, he had been upset, but it was only supposed to teach the older man to be a little nicer. Well, Shawn didn't know for a fact that little ol' Lassie was hurt, maybe he had just slept in. Yes, that had to be the reasons. Lassiter couldn't get hurt, it wasn't possible.

But the minute the fake psychic walked into the Chief's office, he knew Lassiter hadn't slept in.

"Mr. Spencer, so good for you to actually show up. We've been trying to call you for nearly 2 hours." the Chief said, sternly looking at the young man standing in her office.

Shrugging Shawn refused to meet the woman's gaze as he said, "Gus took my phone away, I was going way over my minutes."

Rolling her eyes the Chief called Buzz along with two officers Shawn didn't know also into the room. "As you four might know, Detective Lassiter has failed to come into work or contact us in anyway." she said, sitting down in her chair. "We all know the detective, and he is not one to call in if he is sick. Hell, he's one to come to work even if he is sick." she added in a small voice, managing a smile.

Shaking her head slightly the Chief looked up at Shawn. "We're getting pretty worried Mr. Spencer, so if you feel anything, please let us know."

Shawn knew it would be easy to just tell them where Lassie had gone, but he still was Shawn, so of course he needed to make it more interesting. Putting a hand on either side of his head, the fake psychic scrunched his face up, as if concentrating. "I...I see a tall man. Blue eyes, striking features, sweet Irish hairline... It's Lassie! He... he went to a warehouse alone to arrest the robbers from the huge bank case!" Opening his eyes Shawn quickly grabbed a pad of paper and a pencil, scribbling down the address he had seen on Lassie's desk.

Standing up quickly the Chief smiled. "This is good. McNabb, Bronze, Berghout, go to the address, and take Mr. Spencer with you. He might be able to find something else there."

The three officers nodded and quickly walked out of the room, Shawn following close behind. He had to find Lassie, it was his fault after all. He was never ever ever going to withhold information from Lassie-face or anyone ever again.

**-MEANWHILE IN SOME RANDOM FOREST IN IDAHO-**

"Uggh." Lassiter said, rubbing his head. Looking around he blinked, confuse evident on his face. Where was he? Or more important, who was he?

Currently the man was laying on his back, his head throbbing as if something heavy had hit him. Glancing down at his clothes, the confused look grew. He was in a suit, a nice suit by the looks of it (if it wasn't ripped and covered in dirt), and dress shoes along with a red tie. Not something that someone would wear while hiking around in a forest. Not that he knew, maybe he was part of some weird cult that did that. And was that a gun holster he was wearing?

Scrambling to his feet Lassiter did a 360, trying to find anything at all that made sense. He didn't know who he was, where he was, or why he was in the middle of some forest wearing good clothes. Or why his head hurt like hell. Wincing at the pain the man took a few steps forward, stumbling and falling face first in the dirt.

The world was spinning now, and Lassiter barely recognized the sound of voices coming closer. He mumbled something about calling Spencer (whoever the hell Spencer was) before his world blacked out again.

**-(Approximately 3 Hours Later; Still in Idaho)-**

Groaning, Lassiter blinked his eyes a few times, the light way to bright in the room. Falling back into the comfy bed the man sighed.

Wait, room? Bed? Shooting straight up, Lassiter reached for his gun, ready to shoot. But it wasn't there. Blinking, the man glanced down at his side. His gun holster was gone, along with his tie and jacket. And why had he reached for his gun in the first place? What if these people were nice? He wouldn't want to shoot them.

Glancing around, Lassiter's eyes snapped onto the only person in the room, a tall man who seemed to be in his late 20's, early thirties, who was leaning against the door frame. The man had short brown hair and hazel eyes. Smiling the man walked over to the side of the bed and took Lassiter's hand.

"Oh David! I'm so glad you're awake!"

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So, there's chapter two! I hope it's good and you didn't get completely bored or anything.

Oh, and sorry my chapters are so short... I just can't make long ones, I don't know what's wrong, I think I have a phobia of writing long chapters.

Please review, they make my day so much better.

Happy Holidays!

**EDIT:** I just realized, the man I described sounds almost exactly like Shawn. But he isn't Shawn, he's a different person entirely. I won't say anything else, because that will give it away.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** JAMBA JUICE ACTUALLY EXISTS! I had no idea it was real, I thought Psych had made it up all along... but anyway, enough about my revaluations during Christmas Break.  
Thanks to Shoki de nai I have decided just to call Lassiter David. It would make more sense, since he doesn't know who he is. Thanks for the advice!  
Oh, and Dert, Idaho is a figment of my imagination. Well, there could be a small town called Dert in Idaho, but I sorta just made it up, so it is my own creation.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Psych or any of it's characters.

* * *

Bolting upright the man wrenched his hand out of the grasp of the stranger. "Where the hell am I? Who the hell are you?" he asked, breathing so quickly and shallow he was in danger of hyperventilating.

"Hey, David, calm down." The stranger said, making shushing sounds, taking the man in the bed's hand again and rubbing calming circles on the back of it. "My name is Nick Lonkton and we are currently in Dert, Idaho."

The man blinked a few times, pulling his hand out of Nick's grasp again. "Well, Nick Lonkton, who exactly am I?"

**-BACK IN SANTA BARBRA-**

The guilt was literally eating Shawn alive. Well, not literally, that would be very painful. But everyone knew that somehow Shawn felt guilty for whatever happened to Lassiter. In the car ride to the warehouse the Head Psychic for the Santa Barbra Police Department didn't say one joke or flirt with the very pretty new rookie cop, Berghout. He didn't even try to figure out her first name.

Sure, good ol' Buzz tried to make some small talk about the weather or something random like that, but the conversations quickly died out. After about 10 minutes Buzz parked his police car in front of the warehouse, Shawn stumbling out after the three cops.

He would have to put up some sort of show, he was a psychic after all, even if it was a fake one. Plus, Lassie wouldn't want Shawn to not be crazy if he wasn't there. Well, that probably wasn't true, the detective would probably have been the happiest person in the world if Shawn stopped being 'psychic'.

The minute Shawn stepped inside the warehouse, he had an idea, even if it was a small one, about what had happened. There wasn't any blood on the floor, so obviously Lassie-face hadn't been hurt that way. People hadn't used this warehouse for a long time so there was a thin layer of dust coating everything, and in the dust Shawn could just barely make out footprints that looked as if there had been a small fight. There was also a long line in the floor that looked as if a body had been dragged somewhere.

Gulping Shawn hoped beyond hope that Lassie wasn't hurt, though he would have to have been hurt for someone to drag him off like that. But enough thinking about the poor detective, Shawn did have a job to do, and staring at the floor wasn't going to get Lassie back.

"Oh, I see it. There was a struggle!" Shawn said, running over to the nearest cop, who happened to be the newest rookie, Berghout, and grabbing her gun out of her holster.

Bronze, a total Lassiter wannabe, narrowed his eyes and took a step forward. "Mr Spencer, you are not to grab an officer's gun." he said, but Shawn just put up a hand. Glancing over at Buzz, Bronze rolled his eyes.

"There were 10 men, armed and dangerous. Detective Lassiter tried his best to hold them off, but even someone as amazingly as awesome as Lassie can't take on 10 men." Shawn said, reaching up and pretending to hit Berghout over the head with the handle of her gun. "One of them snuck up behind Lassie and hit him hard over his beautiful head!" he said, dropping the gun and falling to the floor as if someone had just hit him over the head. "Then... then one of the men grabbed poor ol' Lassidoodle and dragged him off!"

Smiling slightly Berghout bent down and grabbed her gun, putting it back in it's holster, before reaching over to Shawn and touching his shoulder gently. "Um... Mr Spencer, are you alright? I don't think it's very good to be laying face down on a concrete floor covered in dust."

Nodding, Shawn jumped up and brushed himself off. "Thank you Officer Berghout, but you know, during my visions I have no control of what I do. But I am very sorry for taking your gun and pretending to hit you over the head with it. I think the spirits like you." Shawn flashed a smile and winked at the rookie causing her to blush before bounding over to Buzz. "The spirits have a feeling the robbers won't want to kill Lassie, so they'll just deposit him someplace or keep him as a hostage."

Buzz nodded, grabbing out a notebook and scribbling down the information from their psychic detective. "Okay, I think that might be all the information there is, but Bronze and I will stay here, we'll go back in his car. Berghout, go take Shawn back to the station in mine."

The young officer nodded and walked out of the warehouse, Shawn following close behind.

The ride to the stations was rather quiet, both individuals deep in their thoughts. But Berghout broke the silence a few minutes before they arrived at the station. "So, Mr Spencer, do you know Detective Lassiter that well? You seem rather, um... you seem kinda upset and worried about all of this. You do know it isn't your fault, it isn't like you had a vision but decided not to tell the detective about it." The young officer glanced over at Shawn, a worried expression in her eyes. From what she knew of the Head Psychic for the SPBD this was not normal behavior for him, so something had to be wrong.

"Please call me Shawn, and yes, I'd say I know Lassie fairly well. I'm the only person who gets away with giving him nicknames. Though he won't let me call him Binky, which I don't get why, I think Binky is very masculine, don't you agree?" the fake psychic said, flashing a smile at Berghout before looking back out the window. He wasn't about to let anyone know that it actually was his fault. He hadn't had a vision, but he had withheld information from the detective.

Berghout laughed as she parked the police car in a spot and got out. "Okay Shawn, and ya, I guess your right. If anyone else called Detective Lassiter a nickname I think he'd rip their head off. I guess you two are pretty good friends." She waved before turning around and heading towards the station.

Shawn watched the young officer walk of the steps of the police station and sighed. He knew the girl had good intentions, but she was making him feel lousier than ever. Sighing again Shawn ran a hand through his hair and walked towards his bike. Jules wasn't there to flirt with and he didn't have Lassie to tease so there was no point sticking around. Just as he put his helmet on, Shawn heard his name being yelled out. Turning around he saw Berghout running towards him.

"Hey, Shawn, the chief just gave me my lunch break an hour early. I was wondering if maybe you'd like to go get something with me." She seemed flushed, but that was probably just from running down the steps to get to him before he left.

Smiling Shawn took his helmet off. Hopefully they would talk about something other than Lassiter. "Ya, I'd like that. Wanna grab a smoothie?"

**-ABOUT 15 MINUTES LATER IN DERT, IDAHO-**

"Okay, so let me make sure I got all of this. My name is David Tast, I used to live in Maryland but moved out here because I hate the city, I don't exactly have a job but sometimes I help you on your farm, and I love cats and pigs?" David really wasn't sure about the last part, he had the feeling there had been a very bad experience with a cat in his past, but Nick did seem to know what he was talking about. And it wasn't like David had any other clue to who he was, plus this David dude seemed pretty cool.

Nick nodded, smiling brightly. "Yes, exactly. Your also the most sensitive and nice guy around, you could never hurt a fly." the man added, scooting his chair a bit closer to David's bed.

"But that still doesn't explain what I was doing in that forest all dressed up with a huge bump on my head Nick." David said, reaching up and feeling the massive bump on his head. Wincing he dropped his hand only to pull it back and place it under the covers. Nick seemed to have something about holding his hand. Did normal people do that? Maybe they were just really good friends. Good friends held hands sometimes, right?

Nick sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I really have no idea what happened. My only guess would be you drank way to much, which is odd, because you hardly ever drink."

The man in the bed nodded. That made sense. "Maybe I went to a party or something." He shrugged and laid back down, pulling the cover up to his chin.

Smiling softly Nick stood up and bent over David, kissing the man's forehead. "Sweet drams David, I'll be back when you wake up." With that the man walked out, looking back at David once more before heading to the kitchen.

David blinked a few times, unsure of what just happened. Maybe good friends did that too, that had to be it. Snuggling deeper into the covers David decided he'd think about it later. Right now he needed sleep.

**-Still In Idaho, But In Nick's Kitchen-**

Nick sighed and leaned up against the counter. Maybe this wasn't right, what if David, or whoever he was, realized he really wasn't David Tast? Plus, the man probably had someone who loved him looking for him, like that Spencer dude he kept mentioning in his sleep.

Glancing over at David's room Nick smiled. No, it was the right thing, David would have been wandering around the forest forever and probably been attacked by wolves if he hadn't been found by those boy scouts and brought here. Plus, David Tast, who Nick had made up, seemed like a good guy, and now he would finally have someone to help around the farm.

And it didn't hurt that David was pretty damn hot.

* * *

So, I hope it's good.

Please review or poor Shawn may never find Lassie! I'd also like to thank everyone who has already posted reviews, just looking at them makes me smile.


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